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“Well, as you know, I’ve been in school, but it was getting hard. It’s just me and Milo, and truth be told, I was drowning. Not many packs are okay with a single mother…”

“Which is ridiculous,” Emmett pointed out, making me smile, a little knot relaxing in my shoulders.

“What about Milo’s father? I don’t want to pry, but is he going to make an appearance?” Marshall asked softly.

Sighing, I bobbed my head. “That’s a fair question. No, he’s totally out of the picture.” I smiled at my son. “His father clearly wasn’t ready to be a dad, and I wouldn’t want Milo around someone who doesn’t actually care about him.”

Marshall’s brows shot up. “You did it all alone?”

“Yeah. It hasn’t been easy, but it's just me and him.” I grimaced. “His pediatrician visits have almost bankrupted me, but I’ve made it work.” I laughed dryly.

“That won’t be an issue anymore. Between the four of us, we have excellent coverage,” Emmett told me. “If it came to that, anyway. I’m not trying to rush things. But even the little guy would have top medical care.”

I grinned, nodding as another concern was addressed without needing to ask. “That’s really good to hear. It’s been difficult to afford everything. Have you seen the price of formula? It’s wild.”

“I hate to say it, but I don’t think it gets cheaper. I see those back-to-school lists all the time, and damn.” Noah raised his brows, whistling low. “Backpacks and clothes. Extracurriculars, lunches, it’s a thing.”

The fact that Noah was a teacher was actually really amazing. I loved that he already had experience with kids. And teenagers? If he could deal with them on the regular, then a baby would be a walk in the park.

We kept talking and ordered our food. I took Noah’s advice on the type of burger, and Emmett played with Milo as I spoke to the waitress. It was nice to not juggle him for a second. Eventually, the food came out, and my mouth watered at the sight of the burger and fries absolutely loaded with goodies.

When had I last treated myself to a burger? I couldn’t remember.

Unfortunately, it was the moment that the food hit the table that Milo decided he’d had enough of the high chair.

“Cool your jets, little man,” I cooed, scooping him up and placing him on my lap. “I got you, but no fries.”

We dug into our food, and I actually moaned when I took my first bite. It’d been ages since I’d had something so good—and hot. Hot food was a luxury. Ask any parent.

Milo was doing okay, but the longer we were there, the more he squirmed. Halfway through the meal, he started whimpering and fussing.

“Is something wrong?” Noah asked.

“He’s just a little unsettled,” I explained. “His routine has been completely thrown off, and he isn’t handling it the best. Not that I blame him. It’s a lot for a little guy. He’ll settle in a few minutes.”

As long as I was giving Milo my full attention, he was happy. So I gently pushed my plate aside and bounced him on my knee. The last thing I wanted was for him to cry loudly in a restaurant full of people and disturb the other diners. I couldn’t handle being stared at by everyone.

“Travel is hard on us adults. I can only imagine how rough it is for little ones,” Noah sympathized.

“Right?” I nodded, grateful he understood. “It’s all very different for him.”

Marshall’s eyes went between my plate and the baby fussing in my arms. I thought nothing of it until he held out his arms. “Give him here.”

“I…”

“You need to eat. I can entertain him for a bit. All you’ve eaten is half a fry.”

That was a wild exaggeration, and I hesitated. This giant alpha was offering to hold my baby. He wasn’t going to be leaving my sight. They’d be right next to me, but…

“I-I don’t want to put you out.”

“You’re not.” He shook his head, brows creasing. “I’m offering.”

He didn’t seem at all unhappy, holding out his arms. Marshall genuinely wanted to help, and this was going to be part of our lives if we went forward with this. It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me. Holding back tears, I bit my lip and passed Milo to him.

Part of me expected Milo to scream immediately, Marshall throwing him back to me like a hot potato. Instead, my son looked up at the alpha with wonder while running his little baby hands over his stubble in fascination.

“Hey there, bud. You’re going to let Mama eat, okay?” Milo cooed, and Marshall settled him against his chest, holding him with one hand while he used the other to distract the baby from pulling on his chin hairs. “Yeah, you like fingers, huh? Well, gnaw away.”